Page 15 of Tell Me You’ll Stay

“Well, Henry already knows Maxim is here and has been for days. Then there’s the rest of the crew. I’m sure he’s on the next flight out.” Ghost makes my stomach sink to my feet. A cold prickle of tension creeps up my spine, but before fear can take root, Maxim’s hand settles on my shoulder, grounding me.

“How fast can you acquire a priest, Madame de Montfort?” Maxim asks Mamé.

“Within the hour. I like your way of thinking. Come on, ma chérie, it’s time we find something suitable for a bride.” Mamé uses her cane as an aid to get to her feet.

“Tonight? Is that even possible?” I look up at Maxim. When he nods, I smile at my grandmother.

“Everything is possible with the right name and money. I’ll take Liliana to my closets, call the priest, and if you can find out Henry’s flight status, I’ll alert the authorities to head him off,” Mamé responds. I sit back in my chair, looking around the terrace.

“Did someone say two weddings in less than five days?” a vibrant, cheerful voice calls out. I turn around as Mischa, Romy, Cory, and Gennie walk from the house to where we are, smiling and each carrying a glass of either wine or sparkling water. Mischa leads the pack of women, and Nolan’s hand reaches for hers when she steps into reaching distance. Romy does similar with Vik; he holds her burgeoning belly and reminds me that we have other news to share with this group once the wedding is out of the way. Cory dashes to Dom, sitting on his lap without hesitation. Genevieve flashes a radiant smile at Gavin, who stands up to greet her with a kiss to her cheek.

“Yes, and it seems we have a closet to raid. Would you all help me while the men figure out the logistics?” I ask.

“Is that even a question?” Cory asks. “And to think I thought mine and Dom’s timeline was intense. But you men really set the bar on relentless. When you fall, you fall hard.”

“When these men go after their women, they do not mess around,” Romy agrees with a wink.

“Lana, lead the way. I think we have a lot to catch up on.” Mischa gives me a wink. When I go to stand up, Maxim is there to help, his hand going to my stomach.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” And that’s when I hear a gasp from Romy.

“She is,” Maxim confirms.

“I am,” I say at the same time.

“Congratulations!” Mischa hugs me tightly, whispering in my ear, “I’m so excited to have you be a part of our family. It’s about time the two of us gang up on Maxim and give him hell.” My eyes meet Maxim’s before looking around the terrace at everyone surrounding us, loving us as we are, helping us in a time of need. This is the meaning of true family and friendship. This is what I’ve always wanted and craved.

“Thank you, Mischa. I’m so sorry this is happening so close to your wedding. I really didn’t mean for it to work out this way,” I say, pulling back with emotion clogging my throat.

“No apologies necessary. Maxim clearly loves you. You gave my brother hell, which he deserved, and the rest is history. Now, we have to get ready, and something tells me the closet we’re about to raid is going to make me envious. Maybe you can put in a good word with Mamé’s stylist,” Mischa makes light of the situation.

“That would require her taking you shopping, which I know she’ll more than love to do,” I reply.

“I knew a lady like her is all class. Okay, time to get to work. Men, do your thing.” Mischa takes charge. Maxim is barely able to give me a quick kiss before she’s dragging me through the house with all the girls following behind us.

CHAPTER TWELVE

maxim

I’m standing at the altar on the very edge of Villa des Cyrnes, where the manicured cliffside terrace drops off into the endless, sparkling expanse of the sea. Above us, the tall trees sway with the evening wind, the fragrance of the sweet blooming jasmine, orange blossoms, and sun-warmed pine.

I had to double-time it back to the yacht in order to shower off the sweat from the day and change into a cream linen suit that Lana’s grandmother told me would work well with what my future wife is choosing to wear at our ceremony. My chest expands as I take a deep breath when I hear the soft, melodious chords of a string quartet begin to drift through the air, signaling the start of the ceremony.

Nolan gives my shoulder a firm, supportive squeeze where he stands beside me as my best man. Nearby, Ghost keeps a watchful eye on the area, his sharp gaze scanning the perimeter. Mischa stands on Liliana’s side, and Romy sits with Vik. The same goes for Cory and Dom, and Gennie and Gavin. The only missing people from the montage of our group are Jett and Rowdy. They’ll be here for Mischa and Nolan’s wedding but can’t make it until the day before their upcoming nuptials.

And then, the world stops turning.

Liliana appears at the top of the terrace steps, and the breath is completely ripped from my lungs. She’s exquisite, a vision of pure beauty that makes my heart slam against my chest with the force of a sledgehammer. She’s wearing a long, flowy silk swath of a dress that glides over her skin like moonlight. The delicate fabric molds perfectly to the soft curve of her hips, highlighting the subtle fullness of her lower abdomen where our child is safely cocooned. The neckline dips low between her full breasts, revealing the soft, golden glow of her skin. Her dark wavy hair is swept into a loose, intricate braid that falls gracefully down the side of her neck, with a few runaway curls escaping to frame her face.

She doesn’t look at the ocean.

She doesn’t look at the view.

She doesn’t look at the guests.

Her striking blue-gray eyes are locked on mine, watching me the entire time as she takes her first step down the aisle. The sheer power of her gaze pins me to my spot as she’s walking toward me, choosing me.

As she reaches me, her grandmother passes her hand to mine, kissing both of her hands once our fingers are laced together, and then, with her cane in one hand, she takes her seat to watch over the service.